


Super Epic and Romantic Winter Road Trip 2K17

by fixme_in_fortyfive



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-14 16:25:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13011630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fixme_in_fortyfive/pseuds/fixme_in_fortyfive
Summary: With the upcoming announcement that Fall Out Boy is back - the hiatus finally over – Pete and Patrick just want to spend a quiet Christmas together. On a Couch in a remote cabin, snow-covered mountains and all? Sounds perfect.This is a gift for Das_verlorene_Kind for the Bandom_Holidays Christmas Exchange.





	Super Epic and Romantic Winter Road Trip 2K17

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Das_verlorene_Kind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Das_verlorene_Kind/gifts).



> Tons of thanks to [rosiedoesfic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rosiedoesfic/profile) for reading this and helping me to make this a better story :)

He feels a little stupid; standing in an underground garage waiting for Pete to pick him up. With his large traveling bag, he feels as visible as if he’s wearing a big sign. _Patrick Stump meeting Pete Wentz for secret getaway_.

They agreed to stay out of the public eye and not stir up any rumors - at least until they announce the end of the hiatus in the beginning of the next year. It meant a lot of sneaking around, but this feels ridiculous.

Going on a Christmas vacation together sounded counterproductive at first, but Pete made it sound really good. Their first Christmas together, the two of them in a snow-covered cabin, a fireplace and a bottle of whisky? How could he have said no to that? Who knows how crazy everything will get once the new album comes out.  

Plus, Pete assured him they'd make it out of town together unseen. That’s why Pete made Gabe rent them a van and he would not pick Patrick up at his house. Hence the underground parking garage.

And now he feels stupid and he’s already a little freezing, the cold wind biting into his skin where he’s not wearing gloves. Since they moved to LA, he admits, he’s less comfortable in cold weather.

When Pete finally pulls up he’s ten minutes late, but Patrick is not surprised; knowing Pete he’s glad it’s only ten minutes. Looking into the vehicle from the passenger side, Patrick thinks for a second he got the wrong van. Then he wishes he got the wrong van.

He pulls the door open in one swift move, leaning into the van to get a closer look at what must be Pete - hidden behind sunglasses and a wig that makes him look like a soccer mom with a mean five o’clock shadow – and waves his hand in Pete’s general direction. Patrick's unvoiced question of what the hell this is hangs in the air between them.

Pete, oblivious as always, smiles like a proud kid with his head held up high as he takes off the sunglasses and weaves his fingers through the fake hair, proclaiming, “It’s my disguise!”

A breathless chuckle escapes Patrick’s lips when he throws his bag onto the backseat of the van before settling into his seat. When he said to Pete they should be careful he wasn’t expecting that, but he should have.

“I can’t look at you like this for the next seven hours,” he says and adjusts his seatbelt, stretching his legs out in front of him. The van is big, a definite upgrade from the piece of scrap metal they drove around the country in when they started out. It also got a working heater; the air warm and toasty on Patrick’s hands, his fingers tingling from the cold.

A little disappointed, Pete pulls the wig off and throws it behind him without even looking back.

“Let’s go then.”

The van lurches forward and Pete throws him an apologetic smile, but Patrick is more interested in the stereo anyway, not even bothering to say anything. He's searching for a radio station before remembering the playlist Pete had sent him yesterday. The high-tech sound system built into the van is another thing he would have loved to have back then. Pete made him promise not to listen to the playlist – titled _Super Epic and Romantic Winter Road Trip 2K17_ – before they left and it was an easy promise to keep. Connecting his phone now, he'll admit he's a little curious.

But when first song starts playing Patrick regrets ever getting into the van with Pete. His defeated groan is drowned out though, by that god awful new version of Mariah Carey’s _All I Want For Christmas_ that came out the year before.

~

They’ve been driving for a little over seven hours and Patrick is seriously ready to get to their cabin; his legs stiff from sitting in one place for too long. The snow has gotten worse and they’re behind schedule because of some road construction. It’s gotten pretty dark outside, too, but the road ahead of them is empty at least, so he’s not really worried about it. But still, he’d rather already be on the couch cuddling up with Pete.

Pete’s _Super Epic and Romantic Winter Road Trip 2K17_ playlist is actually pretty good, as it turned out. Most of Patrick’s favorite songs and all the classics are on it. The first song was, as Pete pointed out, a joke. Very funny, Patrick thought.

“We should be there soon,” Pete says as they pass another roadside diner, side-eyeing Patrick.

Before Patrick can answer him though, there’s a loud thumping sound and the van jolts underneath him. Pete curses. The van swerves to the left, pushing Patrick against the passenger door before swerving to the right; Pete trying to get the van back under control. But the road is icy, too slick and they skid towards the roadside ditch. Patrick grabs the dash when Pete steps on the brake, but it doesn’t keep them from sliding off the road. They come to a full stop once they hit the deep, untouched patch of snow in the ditch. Patrick’s heart is beating a mile a minute when he turns to Pete, relieved when he sees him clutching the steering wheel, breathing heavily.

“You okay?” He looks okay, a little shaken maybe, the way Patrick feels right now.

Pete looks at him, running a hand through his hair and the other touching Patrick’s shoulder and neck, like he wants to make sure he’s alright. “Yeah, fine- I’m fine. You?”

Patrick nods and takes a calming breath, his heartbeat slowing down with every second that goes by. “I’m okay. What happened?”

Pete’s hand leaves his neck and he hits the steering wheel with his open hand a couple of times.

“Don’t know, I’m gonna check it out real quick.”

Pete leans over to Patrick’s side; opening the dashboard compartment and grabbing the flashlight he finds there. He’s out of the van – not even bothering to put on a jacket – a sudden gush of icy air hitting Patrick when the door opens and closes. He can’t see much outside, following Pete’s movement by the jumping light beam in the dark.

 _At least we didn’t hit any trees this time_ , he thinks and hopes it’s nothing too bad. In any case they got lucky; this could have gone so much worse. He should check where they are, in case they need help, but when he tries to open up the map on his phone he can’t get a connection. He hopes it’s just the bad weather and not actually their location.

Another minute and Patrick is hit with more cold air, prickling on his bare skin, a few rogue snowflakes melting wet and cold on his face, when Pete hurries back onto the driver’s seat, rubbing his arms to stave off the cold.

“It’s the left front tire; we’re pretty much stuck right now. Nothing else seems damaged,” he says into his hands, blowing warm air over his fingers and rubbing them together, “change the tire, get a tow service down here and we’ll be fine.”

“I have no reception out here.”

He doesn’t have high hopes, because why would Pete have any reception sitting two feet from him. What little hope he did have is crushed by the letdown look on Pete’s face; there’s in fact no reason at all.

Pete turns back, reaching for his jacket on the backseat, but Patrick stops him with a hand on his arm before he can get a hold of it.

“What are you doing?”

“We passed a diner, I’m gonna go get us some help.”

“No, you’re not. It’s freezing out there and the weather is crazy,” he says, his voice stern and his face hopefully convincing enough. This is one of Pete’s ideas he needs to squash. They’re in a ditch on the side of the road, Patrick can’t even see anything outside and he does not want Pete walking alongside that road for who knows how long. Pete seems to consider his words and his sigh tells Patrick he’s not thrilled about it, but he’ll drop it.

“What then, you want to stay here all night?” he asks, all but sounding like Patrick stole his favorite toy, slumping back into his seat. Patrick is still holding his arm in a tight grip, but moves up to squeeze his shoulder instead.

Pete might mean to make it sounds crazy to make Patrick see how ridiculous it is. But looking around the van, Patrick doesn’t think it’s ridiculous at all. It is still an upgrade from the old van, they definitely slept worse before.

“Why not? The heater works and we have enough space back there. Don’t tell me you’ve gotten spoiled by fancy hotel rooms,” he teases, nudging Pete’s arm with his elbow, “it's just like old times.”

It’s apparently the right thing to say, because Pete’s pouty lip curls into a smile and his eyes glint with mischief.

“Guess I’ll get the bed ready then.”

To avoid walking around the van in the bristling cold, Pete opts for climbing over the middle console, almost jabbing his elbow into Patrick’s face and falling face first onto the backseat in the process; he can catch himself on the seat though, pulling his leg through the opening between their seats. Patrick watches as he turns the backseat into a makeshift bed for the night; turning the seats down and cushioning the surface with a blanket he finds in the foot space. He even turns their jackets into pillows at the rear-end of the van. Looking at it from his seat, Patrick feels the memory of long forgotten nights a little closer to his heart. It looks pretty comfy and with the heater running it beats walking through the storm; even for just a minute.

Pete is making himself comfortable on their makeshift bed while Patrick still thinks about the past, stretching his legs and arms out, covering the whole space.

“Man, I’d kill for a pizza right now. Or- anything, really.” Either his stomach seems to agree or they’re about to get attacked by a wild grizzly bear; the grumbling too loud in the silent van, making Pete even look bashful, slapping his stomach lightly and pulling Patrick from his thoughts.

“Hang on a sec,” Patrick says and – hopefully looking more graceful than Pete did – climbs over the middle console to join Pete in the back. He’s got the thing to solve Pete’s hunger problem. It was meant as a surprise for when they got to the cabin, but- well, that’s not gonna happen tonight.

He’s rummaging through his bag – that Pete pushed towards the sides of the now-bed, looking for the plastic container he packed and hoping it didn’t get too mixed-up. He ignores Pete - leaning over his shoulder to get a look at what he’s doing - as best he can. That guy has no patience sometimes.

“It’s cold, but should be edible,” he warns and, at last, gets the container out of his bag and hands it to Pete. He pulls off the lid, revealing a piece of glazed ham, some baked vegetables for Patrick and lots of mashed potatoes – and his eyes shine when he looks back up at Patrick and asks, “you made this?”

Like he doesn’t know food is the way to Pete’s heart. Even as cold as the food is, it still smells good, just less strong.

“I made the potatoes and bought the ham,” Patrick clarifies. Since he’s not eating any ham, he wasn’t gonna slave away in the kitchen all day long, so store-bought was the way to go. He didn’t pack any silverware though and looks helplessly to Pete.

“You don’t happen to carry a fork with you, do you?”

“As a matter of fact,” Pete begins, turning his back to Patrick, sifting through his bag only to pull out a plastic fork a second later, “I do.”

Patrick isn’t sure he wants to know why Pete carries that with him, but it’s still wrapped in foil and better than eating with their bare hands like caveman.

Theys sit back against the van to eat, Pete feeding Patrick forkfuls of vegetable, separated from the ham by a small wall of mashed potatoes Pete created. The coldness doesn’t take too much away from the taste and they’ve finished the whole container in no time at all.

“Remember the first time we crashed a van?”

With dinner over and done they plunked down on their bed for the night, Pete’s arm snaked around his body holding him close and their legs tangled. He hums to let Pete know he does remember. Their thick winter jackets turn out to be perfect pillows and thanks to the running heater they probably won’t even need a blanket. If Patrick ignores that they’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, this is actually really nice; with the both of them sharing food and memories and just- being together. He missed that a lot, but it didn’t take any time at all to get used to it again.

“It snowed that day, too,” Pete begins his walk down memory lane, rubbing soft circles over Patrick’s arm, “and we were in the middle of nowhere, just like we are now.”

Patrick does remember, although the memory’s gotten a little fuzzy over time. They’d been driving off the road into a forest, there had been glass everywhere and the whole left side of their trailer had been ripped open.

“And you bragged about your injuries,” Patrick adds when Pete doesn’t go on. He can feel Pete’s laughter through their embrace before he hears it, the sound familiar in the best way.

“I lived to tell the tale. And I would do it all again.”

Pete’s lips ghost over his head, softly kissing his hair. He could probably fall asleep like that, if he were tired at all. Instead he wriggles his hand free from between their bodies and fishes for his phone in his pocket. The display lights up only to tell him there’s still no reception. It’s also after midnight now.

“Merry Christmas,” Patrick mumbles and leans up to steal a kiss from Pete, his lips warm and soft against Patrick’s; he can faintly taste the chap stick Pete always uses when they part and Patrick licks his lips out of habit.

“Does that mean it’s time for presents now?”

Pete grins cheekily at him, trying to do something behind his back without letting go of Patrick; he looks really focused for a second, with his tongue poking out the side of his mouth, before pulling out a neatly wrapped gift-box and holding it towards Patrick.

“I thought we said no presents,” Patrick says, accusingly, but takes the box from Pete’s hand and sits up, leaving Pete’s arm empty.

“Try telling that to my mom.”

Patrick looks at the box, surprised. They only told their parents a few weeks ago and since they decided to keep it a secret anyway, there hadn’t even been a chance to go see their parents together. Not that Patrick expected that to be a problem, Pete’s mom has always loved him like one of her own children – she made sure to tell him on every possible occasion.

He hadn’t even thought about getting something for Pete’s mom, barely remembered getting his own mom something. Before their break he always did get her something, feeling nostalgic the first Christmas when he didn’t and when he wasn’t invited to Christmas dinner. He refrains from shaking the box in his hands, admiring for a moment the corny wrapping paper and the red bow on top. Carefully he peels off the tape on the sides and slides out the box inside. It’s obvious, looking at the way it’s wrapped, that Pete wasn’t involved in the process. He’s gotten presents from Pete before and they always looked like Pete wrestled with the tape and wrapping.

When he opens the box, underneath a few sheets of fine red tissue paper, Patrick pulls out a sweater. It’s one of these cheesy Christmas sweaters – not exactly ugly but bordering on – with white snowflakes on red wool and a colorful Christmas stocking in the middle. It looks a little like the one Pete has hidden deep in his clothes where he thinks Patrick doesn’t look. It reappears every year around Christmas, for some reason.

“Your mom bought me a sweater?”

Pete, pie forgotten or already finished, smiles warmly back at him, shaking his head no.

“She made you a sweater. And she expects you to wear it for Christmas dinner next year.”

Patrick can’t help but smile, too, making a mental note to thank Pete’s mom himself when they’re back from their trip. Christmas sweater still in hand he leans over Pete, pulling him into a sweet kiss.

“Who needs a cabin with a fireplace to cuddle up to anyway?”

Patrick grabs his phone from where he left it on the middle console, re-connecting his phone to the sound system and then music starts pumping from the speaker. He kisses Pete again to the first song of Pete’s _Super Epic and Romantic Winter Road Trip 2K17_ playlist; flat tire and snowstorm all but forgotten.


End file.
